


this beast that you’re after will eat you alive and spit out your bones.

by zolotolev



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Movie: Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Short One Shot, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 16:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zolotolev/pseuds/zolotolev
Summary: “Leia Organa is dead,” he murmured in that frantic chopped voice he reserved only for manipulation. “and the Resistance may as well be."





	this beast that you’re after will eat you alive and spit out your bones.

**Author's Note:**

> all i can do is cry tears over these two ridiculous children. i want them both safe and happy. title from eat you alive by the oh hello's from their album the deep dark valley.

Debris fell around them like how she had always imagined snowflakes would flutter to the ground. At their feet, slain praetorian guards. Their sleek red armour could have passed for blood. Her own blood rushed against her ears, pounding, her heart beating madly against her ribcage. Even while it sank. Even while it splintered. He stood in the center of the massacre spewing grand propositions for their future and all she could feel was aching sorrow. She could almost view their paths materialize in the air, leading in vastly separate directions. His path was not simply different, it was devastating - both to himself and to the galaxy. To the Resistance. 

Two missions, she had been tasked with. One mission through General Leia: find Luke and bring him home. The second mission she had assigned to herself: find Ben Solo and bring him home. She had failed in both. 

“I don’t want to rule,” she nearly whispered, hating how vulnerable and small her voice sounded. 

He was steadfast in his response. “It’s not up to you anymore,” he argued vehemently, stepping forward. “ _ We _ have a responsibility through the Force.  _ We  _ can bring order to the galaxy.” 

“I have a responsibility to the Resistance,” she countered firmly. “To the people I care about - to Leia.” 

“No!” And she flinched backwards at the intensity of his rebuttal. Ben was rapidly disappearing. The dark eyes gazing out from a mop of black hair were ablaze with manic fervor. “Leia Organa is dead,” he murmured in that frantic chopped voice he reserved only for manipulation. “and the Resistance may as well be. There’s nothing for you there.” 

The wetness spilling onto her cheeks felt foreign. She inhaled and a shuddering breath and said, “You’re lying.” A loud groan of metal against metal pierced the air and she glanced around, suddenly aware that their surroundings were disintegrating as they spoke. When she looked back, he hadn’t moved. His eyes were still trained on her, as though he could gaze directly into her mind and sway her thoughts. She could have laughed through the tears at the irony. “Ben,” she warbled, casting her pride aside in one swift motion. “Please come with me.” 

Fear permeated the air. On jakku, she had seen animals entangled in man made traps that would claw and bite if she approached too quickly. They would chew off their own appendages for freedom. She saw the same flicker of paralyzing terror in his otherwise difficult to read face. She had come to know Ben Solo well enough to see it, and she had felt his soul often enough to feel it. 

“There’s a place for you there,” she continued quietly. One foot in front of the other. Her hands shook. Her eyes shone with sincerity. 

She could hear the leather of his gloves twist as his hands formed fists at his side, and his face similarly twisted into an expression of pure derision. “A place in the Resistance for the kinkiller,” he snarled. “In stun cuffs. On Oovo IV.” 

All she could do was shake her head sadly, the strange sensation of her loose hair tickling her neck. She was close enough that, with bated breath, she could reach her bare hand out to touch the cool leather of his gloved one. The touch was feather-light, the tips of her fingers against unfeeling fabric. The fleeting image of their hands touching, each finding solace and understanding in the other, a moment of clarity and peace amidst a waging war. She prayed that he could see it in her steady gaze. 

“It’s time to let old things die,” she parroted with a sad smile. Shock swept across his eyes. “ _ I’ll help you. _ ” 

The image leaped from her mind to his like an electric current and it was as blinding as a sun: 

Rey and the redeemed Ben Solo huddling together at a table over holomaps, pointer fingers and low voices overlapping in serious strategic planning, their trays of food rations haphazardly discarded on the sidelines and Rey glancing up with a firm challenging expression at anyone who dared so much as whisper the dead name of _ Kylo Ren _ . Ben and Rey sparring like an intricate dance, sticks in place of lightsabers, and comradery in place of teeth-gnashing violence. Ben offering First Order secrets for the first time in a Rebel huddle, voice deep and steady while explaining intricate security systems, but hands stuffed between knees to keep them from fidgeting, several dozen startled and wary eyes trained on him - and Rey, smiling encouragingly. The whispers of Snoke disappatting everyday, replaced by his own internal monologue which questioned every moral decision but, in the end, steered him in the direction of  _ good _ , of  _ help _ , of  _ find peace _ . The internal voice sounding a lot like Rey. 

Rey, who is becoming stronger and more outspoken every day, who misses the wondering looks and awed smiles and the hope she leaves in everyone in her wake - Ben seeing all of it and trying even harder. Rey laughing easily with Finn and Poe, then pulling Ben into the conversation organically to provide an anecdote that changes the men’s eyes from wary to mirthful in a matter of minutes. Rey, who tells anyone who will listen the play-by-play of her and Ben’s takedown of Supreme Leader Snoke and all of his guards. Rey, who learns how to coax even the most stubborn plantlife back into budding, who finally finishes washing the very last stubborn sand particles of Jakku from her body. Who looks around at her Rebel Alliance, meeting eyes with Ben from across the room and finding them tranquil, and realizes that Maz Kanata had been right all along. 

The floor beneath them rattled dangerously, and she hastened to grip his arms securely in hers, his own rushing forward to fasten themselves onto her waist. She quickly trailed her hands down to his own and gave a frantic tug. In that beat, they did not speak - her eyes swept upward wildly in a gaze of pure supplication. His own gazed down in wonderment of the genuine hope she had reverently entrusted in him. He felt a splintering terror that he wasn’t deserving of it. Then she gave his hands another mighty tug, which barely rocked his body, and he shot forward to capture her mouth in his. A second of startled stillness, and she was kissing back, rocking forward to wrap her arms tenderly around his neck. Her brought his own to circle around her midsection, which felt so small enveloped in his arms. She pressed herself flush against the angled rigidity of his body and breathed contentedly into him. 

The floor quaked once more and they drew apart, each stumbling to plant their feet against the trembling floor. Another glance in his direction, and Rey urged, “This way,” before shooting forward. He followed suit, feeling the pull of her hand leading him. 


End file.
